Two Headlights Shine
by OneFishTwoFishTwo
Summary: She felt dazzled by the two headlights glimmering at her with cobalt mischief and reckless adoration. 5.04 Post Ep and SongFic. Fitz/Liv Romance.


_A/N: Hi! So I'm back really quick, crazily enough. Last night's episode was just WIN. Inspiring. FUN. I thought it might work to do a post episode but from Liv's POV this time, since Okay was more Fitz. I don't usually like song fics, but this came on and just worked. It's based on Treacherous by Taylor Swift and is all romance (a little bit of sexual content, but nothing super graphic). A bit longer and I liked it better than my last one. Please review! I got over 600 hits on my story "Okay" and 5 reviews. Sad. Friggen. Day._

 _PSA: I'm actually starting to remember that this is kind of fun. So if you drop me a quick note, it would be SO encouraging and help me along._

 _Summary: She felt dazzled by the two headlights glimmering at her with cobalt mischief and reckless adoration. 5.04 Post Ep and SongFic. Fitz/Liv Romance. PLEASE REVIEW!_

 _Rating: T. Slight sexual content._

 _ **Title: Two Headlights Shine**_

* * *

 _Put your lips close to mine_

 _As long as they don't touch,_

 _Out of focus, eye to eye_

 _Till the gravity's too much._

She was laughing and she couldn't help it. He placed his lips close to hers and she giggled wildly until that every-present draw overpowered them and she gave in with a pull of hands and a finger against his cheek.

He said he was going to make out with his girlfriend. They were definitely making out now. She could feel his grip against her waist and felt the undeniable ache just as she always did. It was as if when they touched, every single nerve ending zinged alert. Alive.

Her fingers pressed into his cheek and she swelled with joy. _She_ was alive.

 _I'll do anything you say_

 _If you say it with your hands,_

 _And I'd be smart to walk away_

 _But you're quicksand._

She knew this was a terrible idea. She had asked what he was doing, and he had given that little secret smile and pulled her easily into the elevator. She wanted him to touch her. She wanted to be back in his arms after one of the worst days of her life. She thought she should feel upset, but she just felt reckless calm and slightly manic at the thought that he had actually done this.

His hand wrapped around hers as he moved behind her to open the door.

The flood was instant and bright and they were finally standing in the light. Artificial, hurtful light that was so, so irrelevant. She had passed the choice to walk away. And she was okay with that. All she wanted now was to sink into him, sink into him and get stuck.

He was the best bad decision she had ever made. She was the best good decision she had ever made. They were finally doing this. She wasn't being smart. She was being right.

 _This slope is treacherous_

 _This path is reckless,_

 _This slope is treacherous_

 _I like it._

They were in _so_ much trouble. She couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips as they slipped smoothly into the presidential limousine and he sat next to her.

They had been reckless. So reckless.

She felt like they were walking a cliff. The thing was, they kept falling off, _jumping_ off even, and she didn't mind. She didn't mind so much that she even kind of liked it. _Really_ liked it.

Before she knew it, they were on top of that cliff again, tiptoeing on slipping sand and gripping hands to ensure that they'd either balance or topple off together. As long as they toppled off together, it didn't seem to matter how hard they fell.

For once in her life, she felt reckless. She felt like she was on this treacherous path and it filled her with giddy, reckless excitement. She felt free. Every time they fell, they got to fly.

 _I can't decide if it's a choice_

 _Getting swept away,_

 _I hear the sound of my own voice_

 _Asking you to stay._

She couldn't figure it out though, and she supposed she had stopped trying to. She was swept away by him, out the door, into the car, into the Whitehouse and into his arms. She was swept into his bedroom, filled only with a soft glow from open windows and boundless relief.

It wasn't choice. It was inevitability.

She felt her shoulders move down as he stripped the jacket off. She wanted to be closer.

His jacket fell and her hands worked against his tie. She had tied it for him so many times- the feel of it slipped through her fingers with ease and she felt lips touch hers as her shirt slipped to the floor.

He tasted like mint, bourbon and Fitz.

The leather of his belt slid through her fingers and she felt her back hit fabric before she even registered that he had moved her.

Then kisses on her lips.

"Hi," deep and full, his voice dripped like honey and she sighed in contentment.

"Hi."

"You stay here," he said, pulling back and shucking his pants.

"Stay," she heard her own voice, asking him back, and his arms wrapped around her middle, pulling her upward and climbing over her.

 _All we are skin and bone_

 _Trained to get along,_

 _Forever going with the flow_

 _But you're friction._

They were skin to skin.

He slipped the bra strap from her shoulder and pressed a kiss against the mark where it had rested.

She couldn't think. Not while his lips were pressing against hers like that. No longer chaste and playful and soft but hard, and passionate and wet. He was pulling the bra from her body and she was grabbing sandy curls in her fists and gasping for air.

Their bodies flowed together like they had choreographed it. He knew her like he knew himself, better than he knew himself. He knew exactly what to do to make her gasp. He knew exactly how to make her beg. He knew exactly how to make her abandon all sense and walk outside with him into a melee of media and an island of warm hope and concealed devotion.

Her stomach trembled as he nibbled at her lower lip and her mouth opened to suck in air.

She needed friction. Everything lately was friction. The press. Discussions on a home-wrecker. Talk of impeachment. It was all friction.

It was all friction. But not the good kind.

They were better at the good kind.

 _This slope is treacherous_

 _This path is reckless,_

 _This slope is treacherous_

 _I like it._

It was so reckless that they were doing this here, now. But she couldn't even contemplate that as his fingers ran through her hair, across her face, treasuring her. She couldn't fathom it as he kissed her softly and stared into her open eyes. She definitely couldn't fathom it as he slid inside her with a small sound deep in his chest that made her muscles tighten and her teeth sink into her lower lip.

This was dangerous and she knew why they risked it. Because this feeling, this feeling of him moving against her was unlike anything she had ever experienced. She was swept away and consumed by him. She was drowning in sensation and desire and sweat and _love_. So much love. So much mind-spinning, soul-crushing, head-pounding love. It was consuming.

He was consuming. And _God_ , did she _like it_.

 _Two headlights shine through the sleepless night_

 _And I will get you alone,_

 _Your name has rippled through my mind and I just_

 _Think you should know,_

 _That nothing safe is worth the drive_

 _And I will follow you home._

His eyes met hers and they were like cerulean blue fire, two headlights shining in a dim, sleepless night full of promise, hope and disregard.

She was glad they were alone. His name echoed in her mind over and over as they pushed and pulled and scraped at each other. She had decided if the media was going to do it, they should get to too.

She felt hands in her hair and lips on her neck and wrapped shaky arms around his neck, pressing her fingertips into his scalp and her heels into his thighs.

She wanted him to know.

To know that there was nowhere else that she would rather be. That this, this was what she wanted. That nothing safe was ever worth it and this was dangerous and beautiful and so reckless and _so_ _home_.

She didn't know what people would make of her following him home. She supposed that's how it looked, and later, when she wasn't tensing against strong arms and listening to soft groans of satisfaction, she would know that there would be assumptions.

That she had followed him home.  
That somehow, this place was his home.

That somehow, the calmed contentment and crystal clear adoration of each other's arms wasn't both their homes in the first place.

 _Follow you home._

The sliver of light peeking through fell across one eye and she stared unashamedly while fingers danced up her side, then wrapped around and pulled them together so that they were side by side, chest to chest.

His kisses felt like salvation, corruption and redemption all at once.

 _This hope is treacherous_

 _This daydream is dangerous_

 _This hope is treacherous_

 _I –_

"That was a dangerous move," she whispered, unblinking.

A lazy smile curved his lips upward and he kissed her lightly.

"But the right one," he said, and she bit her lip over a grin.

 _Two headlights shine through the sleepless night_

 _And I will get you alone,_

 _Your name has rippled through my mind and I just_

 _Think you should know,_

 _That nothing safe is worth the drive_

 _And I will follow you home._

"You came for me," she said softly.

"Of course I did," he said.

"Of course you did," she managed, and he smiled again.

She felt dazzled by the two headlights glimmering at her with cobalt mischief and reckless adoration.

 _This slope is treacherous_

 _I like it._

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 _PLEASE REVIEW! :)_


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